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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114522">The Paths We Choose</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marill/pseuds/Marill'>Marill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Politician (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abortion, Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Dialogue, Co-Parenting, Comfort, Episode: s02e06 What's in the Box?, Episode: s02e07 Election Day, F/F, Family Fluff, Fix-It, Girlfriends - Freeform, Memory Loss, One Shot, POV Alternating, Parenthood, Past Drug Addiction, Pregnancy, Running Away, Season 2 spoilers, Swearing, complicated feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:13:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114522</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marill/pseuds/Marill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice decides to take up Astrid's offer of leaving together, for better or for worse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alice Charles/Astrid Sloan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Paths We Choose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>People like Hadassah didn’t understand why a twenty-two year old girl would keep a diary. Astrid didn’t care if she couldn’t. It was none of her business why.</p><p>During the experimental stages of the new-found love for her mother’s medication, she'd experienced gaps in memory a girl barely out of middle school shouldn’t have. And, terrified, she came to the conclusion that if she didn’t want to sacrifice her affair with the medicine cabinet, a record of her life needed to be kept. One of the wiser decisions on the part of her past-self. She couldn’t count the number of times one of her benders had fucked with her memory. When that happened, all she’d have to do was consult the book in her handwriting.</p><p>Her dosage became less recreational after the student president election, and River’s death. But even though she’d taken less and less over the years, in part because her mother was no longer the source of an easy fix, her short-term memory had failed to improve. Maybe it would be like this forever, she wondered. She couldn’t even be mad about it since it was her own fault, despite whatever people said about her upbringing. The diary had become routine to her anyway. A habit she’d have trouble breaking even if her brain ever went back to normal. Sometimes when writing a new entry, she’d flip the pages back to all the previous ones, even if she didn’t need refreshing. The things that she wrote gave her… some sense of comfort. Knowing that maybe she was leaving something behind, like proof of her existence.</p><p>The day she found out she was pregnant, her entry was pretty short. Two vertical lines marked on paper, like the ones she found on her pregnancy test, and she promised to herself that she’d actually write down something later. So far, she hadn’t fulfilled that promise. Perhaps morning sickness got the best of her that day. All she knew was that she had underestimated the effect of the situation and found her feelings too big for paper to contain just after finding out.</p><p>Payton’s baby. God, would it look like him? If she decided to go through with this thing, which she had to decide pretty soon, would he be involved? The prospect of co-parenting with him brought more discomfort to her than the pregnancy itself. But she knew without a doubt, whatever empathetic pretense he put on, that he wouldn’t choose to have anything to do with it in the name of saving his image anyway.</p><p>She thought she'd been careful. She thought that they'd all been careful. But Alice got pregnant too, and she wasn’t happy when Astrid had met up with them to share her news. Maybe it was just simple jealousy. There was more than enough of it to go around when Alice, usually composed and demure when next to her fiancé-to-be, had a look that could have sliced Astrid’s head off at the mere insinuation of a road other than abortion. And it’s not that she couldn’t understand her reaction. God knows how much she didn’t like to share lately. Their children would just be another thing Alice would have to share with her.</p><p>Fuck them. The thought of keeping the baby just to spite them both had crossed Astrid’s mind. But even she knew that would be a terrible reason to keep it. Still, she wondered how much of Alice’s anger was jealousy and how much of it was spent to protect Payton’s reputation. If there was a part of her that felt sympathy for Astrid, she didn’t show it in that restaurant. But she had known Alice for too long to believe that it didn’t exist. Too bad she was his partner first and human second. It didn’t matter to Astrid what she thought, so why was she shopping for baby clothes with her? Despite all that, maybe she still had a little sympathy for her too.</p><p>Rows upon rows of tiny pastel garments filled her vision and underneath her fingertips, she felt soft textures as she delicately dragged her hand across them. She stopped to wonder if her parents had put as much thought into dressing their child or if they'd gotten other people to pick the best ugly little dresses money could afford.</p><p>“Astrid, I never…” A quiet voice was enough to pull her out of her thoughts. The baby blue coat Alice wore made her look like she belonged in the clothing rack she stood behind, almost hiding her. “I never thanked you for not causing any trouble for Payton before the election.”</p><p>“It’s probably just pregnancy hormones,” Astrid sighed before turning her attention back on the array of little jackets.</p><p>“That’s not true. Our reaction to your baby news was cruel.” But the end of that sentence broke with the sound of attempting to hold back tears and it took a moment for Alice to regain enough composure. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Desensitized, Astrid’s responses felt almost automated at this point. “That’s fine, it happens to me all the time.”</p><p>“It’s not because I'm pregnant. Well, it is, but…” she sobbed. Then her expression became more serious than Astrid had ever seen it, unearthed by the vulnerability of crying in a store. “I don’t like the parents this baby is going to have.”</p><p>“No, you and Payton will be great parents,” she assured flatly. “Pretty good ones, at least. You’ll definitely be better than mine.”</p><p>“I don’t like who we've become.” Alice sniffled between the bitterness of her own words. “What politics has turned us into.”</p><p>“Payton is exactly the same as he's always been.”</p><p>“What it’s turned <em>me </em>into,” she clarified. “I’m… selfish. I’m unkind. I’m willing to cheat. To… wreak lives if necessary.”</p><p>“How do you know that’s not who you are?” asked Astrid. Distant sirens sounded in the city. She could feel a pair of eyes on her and turned to meet them. “Politics hasn't changed you. It just happens to be the perfect job for your moral and ethical skillset.”</p><p>There was that look again. A severity engulfed Alice almost like Astrid wasn’t even there.</p><p>“I got into Harvard. Payton didn’t,” she said. “I was the one who told him to run on the climate. I was the one encouraging him to play fair. I’ve deferred my entire<em> life </em>to him! Taken on his worst qualities to serve <em>his </em>dreams. And ego…”</p><p>After laying her soul bare, her hands rested atop of the rack as if in defeat. Astrid felt something, looking at her wipe away tears, and couldn’t describe exactly what it was. Something akin to looking at a candid of Jackie Kennedy.</p><p>“Can’t argue with you there, you’ve been his bitch since I met you.” She wished that sounded more sympathetic coming from her mouth, but it’s not like there wasn’t any truth to it.</p><p>Alice wiped her nose with an embroidered handkerchief she had in her pocket. “Thank you for always speaking straight to me.”</p><p>“My father always said my coldness was my greatest asset…”</p><p>For once, falling into the trap of thinking about her father made her realize something important. Something about happiness which she had neglected to remember until now.</p><p>“Screw Payton.”</p><p>Her companion looked up from her handkerchief.</p><p>“Screw everyone. Y’know, we should just get out of this town and never look back.” Saying this, Astrid walked around the rack of baby clothes that divided them, tempted to grab her by the shoulders if she hadn’t checked herself first.</p><p>For the first time since meeting with her again under better circumstances, Alice laughed. Albeit, through tears. “Running away isn’t going to help anything.”</p><p>“Running away was the best thing I did with my life. When I got far enough, I realized I wasn’t running from anything important, I was running to the life I actually wanted.”</p><p>A life with Alice. It wasn’t until she had spoken it out into the open that she realized what she had suggested. If they wanted to, they could do it. Astrid knew what it was like to be as unhappy as Alice, but it didn’t have to be that way. She couldn’t yet understand if this came purely from a desire to help her, or perhaps… to help them both be happy. Not just surviving, but living, together. She pictured Alice raising her baby away from the influence of the things and people that had ruined her, though Astrid couldn’t picture her own. Whatever her own plans were, if Alice needed help, she decided that she wouldn’t hesitate to come to her aid.</p><p>Their threesome arrangement had lost its appeal a while ago, anyway.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Neither Alice nor Astrid planned to stick around in NYC to find out the results of the senate tie-breaker.</p><p>The former broke up with Payton not long before leaving. It didn’t make it any less hard knowing that, ultimately, this was a good thing. The hurt lasted longer than she'd calculated and manifested into hours of crying into a pillow. This was normal, she reminded herself. She just had to ride it out. But she had just thrown away the only boy she'd ever loved and who had loved her in return, hadn’t she? A complete jackass, but still. She wondered how different her life would have been if she had decided to take her chances with James way back when.</p><p>Ugh, stop, there’s no point fixating on the past. Wasn’t that the whole point of moving forward?</p><p>She tentatively laid a hand on her lower torso in the middle of her weeping. This is for the best.</p><p>“It feels strange doing this,” she said much later, neatly folding a designer blouse that she wouldn’t need into her luggage.</p><p>“It’s not too late to change your mind.” Astrid was sitting despondently on her own packed suitcase, swiping her phone with her thumb.</p><p>“No,” assured Alice. “I can’t think of anything else I would be doing anyway…”</p><p>Taking up Astrid’s offer of running away was something completely unconventional to her. She was worried she didn’t have the balls to do it, the kind of tenacity Astrid always possessed that she couldn’t match. But it came easier to her than she would have expected. The reason for that being Astrid would be there with her at every step. She didn’t think she could bring herself to do this if she had been doing it alone.</p><p>The only caveat was that their destination turned out to be three degrees from a cult. Staying at a maternity camp seemed like a good idea in theory, not so much in practice. After only a day of staying in a place that made them milk sheep, count grains, and pretend to ignore the breakdowns of their fellow mothers-in-training, Alice considered that there were better places they could have chosen from.</p><p>When all of them lay in the dormitory that night, she was still staring at the wooden rafters at least a few hours after curfew had been announced. She could have chalked up her inability to sleep to the chorus of crickets chirping outside and the belated noises of farm animals, but it was neither. A fireplace next to her still contained the smoldering embers of the evening and gave a little more warmth to the situation she had found herself in. Then in the glow of the moonlight spilling through the windows, she spotted a figure in white gliding towards her from the corner of the eye.</p><p>In any other setting, she would have assumed a ghost, but Alice herself donned the white nightgown of every other girl sleeping in this place. Blonde hair came into view and then a face. Astrid knelt by her bed like someone in a dream, head to toe in white lace.</p><p>“Alice…” she muttered. “I can’t do this anymore.”</p><p>“Me neither. This place is insane.”</p><p>“No, I mean— yes, this place is crazy, but I’m…”</p><p>There was no need for Astrid to finish that sentence. Alice had suspected from the start what kind of battle she was fighting.</p><p>“I know what you’re going to say,” The low volume of her voice matched Astrid’s, but she had no intention of letting her consolation be unheard. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.”</p><p>“No, I have to say it.” she insisted. But building up the courage to say it was another thing entirely. She looked Alice in the eyes when finally she had found her voice. “I can’t be a mother.”</p><p>The only thing Alice thought was appropriate to do in response was nod sympathetically, knowing that she couldn’t possibly fully understand the complexity and the factors involved in Astrid’s decision, not from five words alone. But she understood one thing above all else; she would not only support whatever decision Astrid would make, but she would be there with a hand to hold should her companion need one. Not unlike what Astrid had promised for her.</p><p>“Will you come with me?”</p><p>“Of course I will,” Alice whispered. “It’s okay. Do you hear me?”</p><p>More than anything, even if Astrid never trusted her again, she wanted her to believe just this once. What this girl would have to carry from here on out was more important to Alice than whatever words Payton had said to keep her enthralled.</p><p>“It’s okay,” she reassured again, but now aware that the length of their conversation could be enough to wake up the other girls. Or Reignbough. “Now, can we please get the fuck out of here?”</p><p>Without another word, they collected their things and tiptoed around the beds in a swift exit. If Alice ever got pregnant in the future, she vowed never to do something like this again.</p><p>Their attempt at running away from their old lives could have gone better, but it was never going to work the way they'd planned it with Astrid on the wrong side of a mile-high hurdle. It was unreasonable to believe that just because Alice wanted to have this child, Astrid would want to keep hers as well.</p><p>Two young women with children from the same father.</p><p>There was still guilt that haunted Alice every time she was reminded of the day Astrid told her about her pregnancy. She had <em>wanted </em>her to have an abortion. She and Payton had told her as much, and it disgraced Alice to think that she'd justified it with believing she was somehow above Astrid. It was never true. It only took her one day out of New York City with Astrid to truly realize how blind she was. She hoped one day her friend could forgive her.</p><p>Alice offered her a jelly bear from the bag she had been eating from in silence. Helping someone make an appointment for this procedure was not something she had done before, but it went smoother than either of them expected it to go. They had been guided to the waiting room. Clinical like everywhere else they saw in the building, but not… cold. That was probably an intentional choice on the part of all designers who furnished waiting rooms in these kinds of places. The two waited with that silence hanging heavy in the air until Astrid broke it.</p><p>“Do you know anyone who's had one?” she asked.</p><p>“I don't think so. But…” said Alice. “My understanding is that… when you get older, you find out that a lot of people who you never knew had one actually had one.”</p><p>“Pretty sure my mom has.” The assumption came from her mouth like it was undisputed. “And my dad's definitely paid for more than one.”</p><p>“Are you having doubts?”</p><p>“No.” answered Astrid.</p><p>“Are you having feelings?”</p><p>There were questions too important not to ask, in Alice’s experience. Answers that would remain buried for years to come if they weren't said.</p><p>“I thought River got me pregnant once,” Astrid confessed. “I didn't tell him because I knew he would just ask me to marry him on the spot and want to keep it.”</p><p>“And you didn't want that…”</p><p>Her gaze drifted down the hallway. “I loved River more than I've ever loved anyone, but I just… I don't want kids.”</p><p>“You don't know that.”</p><p>“I do,” she said, but not unkindly. “And I don't care anymore if people think that makes me less of a woman. I know it doesn't. I just don't want that for myself, so I know I wouldn't be a good mother.”</p><p>She was right. That was a stupid thing to say to her, Alice cursed. Perhaps she was still caught up in her own pregnancy to view the concept from anyone else’s perspective. Before discovering she was pregnant, she hadn’t put much thought into her future as a mother. Obviously, when Payton became president, a nuclear family was the ideal. Preferably, three children; two boys and one girl. Beyond that, however, she couldn’t tell what kind of mother she wanted to be. If there was even merit in pursuing a path that wasn’t wholly for herself. She hadn’t chosen motherhood at this stage in her life, but at the same time, it didn’t drive her away. Maybe for once, chasing after something for herself didn’t make her want to give it up.</p><p>“Do you think I will… be a good mother?” she reflected, avoiding Astrid and instead looking at her knees.</p><p>“Yeah, I think you probably will.” Her reply caused Alice to look up. “You make Payton feel better about himself than he deserves to, so that means you know how to look after a boy. And you're the most accomplished woman I know. So you'll probably pass that on if you have a girl.”</p><p>Hearing that from Astrid meant more to Alice than she would ever know. But if they were both being honest with each other, then there was still something that she had to express.</p><p>“I still love Payton,” she admitted. “I don't know if I want to do this without him.”</p><p>In most of the plans she had made for the future, Payton was intrinsically involved. And foreign as it was, the idea of raising a child without him was now a reality that she had to give consideration to, should she decide to continue on her own.</p><p>Astrid’s face was one of empathy, and maybe even sorrow behind her cool exterior. Perhaps their pipe dream of leaving together had been shot dead in the four seconds it took Alice to utter her sentence.</p><p>Her friend glanced in the direction of the doctor’s office. “Do you think they'll let you come in with me?”</p><p>“Yes,” Alice answered firmly. “I'll be in there with you the whole time. When you walk out of here, you can do whatever you want with your life.”</p><p>“When I walk out of here,” said Astrid. “It's going to be on a path that I want. So should you.”</p><p>She had trouble grappling with that of late. “But what if we don't like where that path leads?”</p><p>“At least you will have chosen it.”</p><p>“Astrid Sloan?” They both looked up at hearing the voice of a nurse. Astrid answered her and the nurse gave an empathetic smile. “This way please.”</p><p>When Astrid’s hand found Alice’s, it didn’t once let go as they followed the nurse down the hallway. Alice would have liked it if they'd just kept walking, if only for her hand to stay in Astrid's a little while longer.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Another brick wall. The pencil in Astrid’s hand failed to do anything while she stared at that diary entry she hadn’t completed. She should have filled out the page while the events of that day were still fresh in her mind. Now they had turned stale, with only a couple of marks left for someone to decipher after she and everyone else she had written about was long gone.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <strong> ⎥    ⎥<br/>
<br/>
</strong>
</p><p>Her subsequent entries provided all the context she needed, as difficult as they were to put onto paper initially. Convincing herself that even though she wasn’t likely to forget, she accepted it was important to write it all down anyway. What had happened. Her feelings. Rereading it all was easier, kind of like clearing a fog in her mind with every sentence. If only doing something like that would help her feel less exhausted, less mentally drained, but no relief of that caliber came as she scanned her penmanship for errors.</p><p>If she hadn’t heard the door buzzer go off, she might not have been rescued from the temptation of poring over more of her old entries. Tearing away from the book, she headed to where she could answer.</p><p>“Yes?” spoke Astrid.</p><p>The speaker on the wall spoke back. “It’s Alice,” it said. “Can I come up?”</p><p>Oh, right. She did mention she’d come and check up on her, didn’t she? She pushed the button that unlocked the front door of the apartment block and decided to clean up a little before Alice could knock on her door, closing the diary on her desk as she went.</p><p>Alice arrived and before Astrid could offer her anything, let alone shut the door, arms wrapped around her in a tight hug. And Astrid, startled, found herself gingerly putting her arms around her in return. An act of intimacy that wasn’t unwelcome, but hard to remember the last time she experienced it with sincerity. With arms still draped over her, Alice pulled away from the hug with a smile full of warmth. Astrid could feel something shaped like a box behind her neck. Probably chocolate.</p><p>Settling in, Alice forbade her from getting up to make coffee and she did it herself after casting her flocced jacket onto the back of a chair. If she noticed how filthy the kitchen was, she didn't comment.</p><p>“How are you feeling?” she asked, carefully laying Astrid’s coffee cup on the bedside table.</p><p>“Fine,” Astrid told her. “The cramps are pretty easy to deal with. I’m not bleeding much either, so…”</p><p>She could tell that probably wasn’t what Alice meant. “That’s good,” she softly encouraged. “It’s important you don’t push yourself for a few days. Or so I’ve read.”</p><p>She sat down next to Astrid at the foot of the bed with her own coffee, the box of chocolates between them. Alice picked a white chocolate shaped like a square once Astrid had chosen one.</p><p>“I heard Dede Standish handed the victory to Payton,” mentioned Astrid after eating a hazelnut wrapped in milk chocolate.</p><p>“I heard similarly.”</p><p>She turned her head. “You weren’t there?”</p><p>“No. I was at home. It was on TV, but I missed it,” Alice elaborated, taking a sip of her coffee with both hands. “I’m happy for him.”</p><p>So after the bloody feud between him and Standish, the feud between him and his own friends, he got what he wanted after all. What did we get?</p><p>It sounded to Astrid as though Alice had come to better terms about her feelings surrounding Payton. Whether or not that meant she would be back at his side, Astrid didn’t want to ask. There was no doubt that he would thrive in his elected position and the State of New York would flourish under his policies. But feeling happy for him was something Astrid didn’t have to have in common with her.</p><p>She took a sip of her own coffee before it could get cold, almost wondering how Alice knew how she liked it before remembering a night at Payton’s where she'd told her.</p><p>“I want to thank you,” she said, and Alice’s expression looked to be in the beginning of a modest protest. “No, really, I do. I’m not sure if I could have handled going through all that as well as I did if you hadn’t been there.”</p><p>“It was the least I could do,” professed Alice, but she suddenly grew reluctant to look anywhere but the floor. “I wasn't much of a friend to you during the election.”</p><p>“I don’t think you stayed with me to settle personal guilt.” Astrid took her hand, almost instinctively, the way she had done in the clinic waiting room. Maybe it did feel a little awkward considering how unused she was to doing it, but it was too late to let go. “You <em>are </em>a good person. Trust me on that.”</p><p>Though tinged with sadness, Alice managed a smile. “Still, I don’t think I ever formally apologized for Payton and I using you like that. It was my suggestion to include you in our relationship,” she confessed. “You deserved better than us.”</p><p>“I deserved better than him,” corrected Astrid. “Seriously, don’t sweat it. I knew what I was getting myself into. And it’s not like I didn’t enjoy it. At least, while it lasted.”</p><p>She felt Alice trace a thumb over the back of her hand as if in consolation for things she felt that she couldn’t make amends for. The more her hand was in hers, the less Astrid was sure that it didn’t belong there. The same thing had happened at the clinic. More things just made sense when she was around.</p><p>Alice spoke amid their cloud nine. “I’m not getting back together with Payton.”</p><p>And for some reason, that made Astrid’s heart skip a beat and she met the resolved expression on Alice’s face.</p><p>“But I’ve thought about it and… I’m willing to give running away another shot,” she proposed. “If you’re still interested.”</p><p>When she herself had offered to run away, it had been mostly in Alice’s interest. In the interest of raising their children together. She wasn’t even having a baby anymore. But had it ever really been about that? Was there any fiber in Astrid’s being that could say no to her?</p><p>“If you’ve decided to leave, then I want to leave too.”</p><p>A true smile emerged on Alice’s face after hearing her answer, and Astrid couldn't stop the force that caused her smile from ear to ear either. Their laughs, untainted by any woes, were soon muffled by their faces being buried in the other’s shoulder in a tremendous hug. Never had the two of them felt as free as they did at that moment, clutching onto one another on the bed in Astrid’s unkempt one-bedroom apartment, tears in their eyes, and their future brighter than they could have imagined it.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
January 10<sup>th</sup></p><p>It’s hard to believe it’s been two months since we got here. Time flies, but the living room still looks like we’ve just moved in. I guess the reason for that is we’ve been too focused on decorating the nursery. We tried building the crib today, but neither of us have put together furniture before. I’ll update when we get done. Probably by next week.<br/>
All I want to do right now is look at the snow. I think Alice agrees. We took a three-hour break from working on the crib because I fell asleep in the nook and she didn’t want to wake me. I can’t help it if I feel a little more tired right now, but I’d rather do most of the work if it means Alice doesn’t have to exert herself (even though she’s only in the first trimester).<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>March 6<sup>th</sup></p><p>Today, I’m 23 years old. I was the one who was supposed to cook dinner tonight, but Alice made a surprise one. She even baked a chocolate cake for me. I didn’t mention how I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday this year. I hate being reminded that I’m getting older. But she actually made today fun, something which I didn’t think was possible. We watched a movie and looked at the credits for names to add to the three-page long list of baby name ideas. Since the ultrasound, Alice’s been having trouble deciding which ones she likes best. She even asked me for ideas, but I’m pretty fucking terrible at coming up with them.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>May 28<sup>th</sup></p><p>I don’t think my memory is going to get better. I’m still using this book like a crutch, but writing stuff down is as much of a habit to me as eating breakfast. Today, we pooled our money and finally ordered a dishwasher. I guess that’s as clear a sign as any that things are getting serious. Then again, I’m not sure why I assumed this was all temporary when it didn’t feel that way from day one.<br/>
I think the living room doesn’t need any more done to it. The last piece me and Alice added was a framed selfie we took last Christmas, which now sits on one of the shelves in the nook.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>July 4<sup>th</sup></p><p>We just watched the fireworks go off. Lucky that our apartment has a pretty good view, even luckier that I have someone like Alice to watch them with me. She only has a month to go and it shows. It won't be long until she can use the stairs again, and I’ll miss the short time when we’d take the elevator together.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
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Awoken unexpectedly, Alice instinctively reached for her phone on the bedside table. 2:47 am. Not that she could care at this moment what time it was. She woke Astrid who lay next to her with a light shake, but with more than enough urgency. The figure mumbled from under the duvet and then half-opened her eyes in the dark to see Alice leaning over with one hand still jostling and another on her abdomen.</p><p>“We need to go to the hospital.”</p><p>At those words, she saw Astrid’s eyes fully open and then kicked the duvet off the bed as she scrambled to find pants and a pair of shoes, barely out of sleep. Alice did the same, though at a much slower pace.</p><p>The next ten hours were the longest of her life. At almost midday exactly, Alice had given birth. And to look at his fresh face with his eyes not yet open was to make those ten hours disappear. His tiny fragile body swaddled in her arms had the power to make those hours of pain, those nine months of discomfort, seem like an eternity ago. Wiping her tears on the neckline of her gown, she tore her vision from her son to the girl on her left, who still wore sneakers with her pajamas under a flashy coat. She remembered Astrid being unable to control her smile to the point where it looked like she was about to shed tears as well. Alice allowed her to reach out and Astrid touched her son’s cheek with such delicacy, Alice wasn’t sure if she had even brushed him with her fingertips for fear that she would break him with a single touch.</p><p>“It’s okay,” she reassured. “Do you want to hold him?”</p><p>There was hesitance in Astrid’s voice. “I don’t know if I should be trusted with holding a baby.”</p><p>“Nonsense. I trust you.”</p><p>Knowing that Astrid would walk through fire before letting Alice’s baby drop, she steadily passed the bundle of blue over to her girlfriend, who took him in her arms as if receiving a gift from a deity.</p><p>“Hi…” she whispered. “Can you believe she let me name you Ernest? I thought it was a joke, but…”</p><p>“If you’re going to bully my baby, I’ll have him back please,” Alice laughed.</p><p>“No, I think I’ll hold him for a little bit longer,” cooed Astrid, getting used to holding Ernest like a duck taking to water. “Or maybe I’ll just keep him.”</p><p>“For as long as you want.”</p><p>She looked up from the baby and met Alice’s eyes, who had succeeded in melting Astrid’s permanent ice-cold exterior. <em>Yes</em>, Alice was desperate to tell her. You are going to be a part of this child’s life as much as I will, if that’s what you want. I wouldn’t want it any other way.</p><p>But she didn’t have to explain anything. Both of them had always known that once Ernest was born, Astrid wouldn’t leave their side. And Alice couldn’t think of anyone better, anyone who cared more, to raise a life with her than Astrid. It didn’t matter if they would ever get married or not. The future was vast and ocean-like, and there was no point in trying to see beyond the horizon while they had what they were chasing for right in front of them. A home.</p><p>For the next two years, they continued with their life. Or an approximation of it. Everything was different now that the third member of their household had joined them. But they caught on fairly quickly to their new routine and eventually became so good at it, they had failed to notice how well.</p><p>The times Ernest would wake up, the moments he would cry for someone’s attention. One of his caretakers was always there. When he grew a little older, Alice would apply for med school and they would have to hire a babysitter while Astrid held down her nine to five job. Until that time, they'd revel in the moments they had with their newborn, despite the number of times the baby monitor would wake them up in the middle of the night.</p><p>Over time, Alice made sure to keep photos of the milestones and put them in an album. A picture of his first steps with Astrid’s arms in the shot, helping him keep stable. A picture of him in the high chair behind a chocolate cake featuring a single candle. Another picture of him playing with a shapes puzzle, a present from last year…</p><p>She closed the album and placed it back on the bookcase once she had finished adding the latest photo, but often, she’d get carried away and peruse a little longer. At this time in the evening, Astrid would put Ernest to bed. Feeling worlds away from them after looking at the album, Alice headed for the nursery.</p><p>Seemed like he had fallen asleep already, she noted. From behind, she saw Astrid rest her elbows on the crib watching him dream. They’d have to get a bed for him soon as he was outgrowing his crib a little every day. Alice treaded lightly enough to not disturb him, but loud enough not to surprise Astrid and risk waking him. A crop of feathery brown hair appeared below her, belonging to her toddler sprawled under a blanket. Eyes closed and his breathing steady enough to put anyone who watched at ease.</p><p>“You know,” said Astrid quietly. “Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea if we did get married one day.”</p><p>“Oh?” Alice replied. “That’s a new development.”</p><p>“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that mid-twenties thing where everyone you know is getting married,” she conjectured. “McAfee’s engaged. Or so I’ve heard.”</p><p>“Sure that’s not the only reason?” Alice teased. “It’s alright. I’m happy with whichever road you want us to go.”</p><p>She leaned in and tilted her head for a kiss like she had done countless times before, but never enough. </p><p>“Did you remember to write today?” she reminded her.</p><p>“Yeah, just finished.” However, Astrid’s tone was too recognizable at this point to hide that something was bothering her.</p><p>“I’ve noticed you spend less and less time updating your diary,” Alice probed. “Do you think your memory is getting better?”</p><p>There was noticeable despondency from Astrid when she said that, all but confirming Alice’s suspicions, and her eyes closed for a couple of seconds as if in frustration.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>“My memory is still the same. It’s just that I… haven’t felt much like writing lately.”</p><p>“But it’s important,” whispered Alice.</p><p>“Whenever I do write…” she began, but indicated that she might wake Ernest up with her voice if she wasn’t careful, so they moved their conversation outside into the hallway. “Whenever I do write, I don’t really want to think about the day that’s been. I end up being sucked into thinking about things that happened in the past.”</p><p>“Like what?” Alice placed a hand on her shoulder that slid down her arm. “You can tell me.”</p><p>“I don’t know if I can.”</p><p>“I promise, it’s okay.”</p><p>“What if…” The first signs of tears began to show when her voice could no longer contain her feelings without cracking. “What would have happened if I'd decided not to have my abortion?”</p><p>Her heart sank from the discovery of the pain her partner had been concealing and the hand slipped from her arm and into Astrid's. Alice wasn’t sure what to do so she placed another hand atop their entwined ones, recalling where the two of them had been that day two years ago. “Oh… Astrid…”</p><p>“I always thought that I couldn’t be a mother. I’m still not sure that I could,” she continued. “But I’m looking after Ernest now. Your son. And I wonder if…”</p><p>“No. Listen,” Alice spoke before she went further. “You couldn’t have known two years ago that you’d be parenting him with me. You had to make a decision back then, and it was the right choice for you.”</p><p>“Maybe it was the right decision. I know that I didn’t want kids of my own. I just wish… ” she drifted. “I just wonder. Would I have made the same choice?”</p><p>“Astrid, be kinder to yourself,” pleaded Alice. “All of that is in the past where it belongs, and you’re better off because of it. You cared about your happiness and your future. Don’t you think that was a brave thing to do?”</p><p>Quickly wiping the last of her tears on her sleeve, Astrid eventually nodded her head in acceptance. Then drawn to Alice, she rested her head on her shoulder and Alice put her arms around her as if in protection from something neither of them could see. No one deserved to feel this way, least of all Astrid.</p><p>“I love you,” Astrid whispered. “And I love Ernest. I want to move forward, but I don’t know how soon that can start to happen.”</p><p>“You have me with you at every step. Always,” promised Alice. “And I think writing more will help. Not just about the good times. All of it’s important…”</p><p>“I know. Doesn’t mean I’ll like doing it though.”</p><p>“Think about all those dishes you had to wash before we got the dishwasher. You just have to wait for your dishwasher to come in.”</p><p>“I hate that analogy, but thank you.” Astrid smiled and that’s when Alice knew she hadn’t completely failed in making the situation a little better.</p><p>“Oh, also,” she added. “I love you, too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Watched all of season 2 in one day and was mad enough to write this. (To put you at ease, I'm very much pro-choice but I just wanted to explore Astrid's conflicting emotions so apologies if seemed like a different message was being conveyed. That wasn't my intention at all and no one should be ashamed of having an abortion.) Hope you enjoyed reading! Big thank you to static_abyss for beta-ing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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